What We Can Reduce To
by Orinme
Summary: Pure sexual smut. Slash, yaoi, male sex. ReaverSparrow. Reaver gets Sparrow into his bed. Thats about all it is.


A/N:

Pure smut. I don't really know what else to say about this.

It's just pure smut.

Probably taking place in come chapter later in Shooting Sparrows, but I don't know. I had an overwhelming desire to write it. So sue me. ;3; My first attempt at pure smut. 8D; Don't hurt me. –hide-

-w-

It had started with a gently finger over Sparrow's jaw. Just one. And a soft crooning of 'oh, what things I could do for you, my dear Sparrow.'

And it somehow turned into this. And Theresa be damned, he /liked/ it.

Reaver was a tall man, for their time. He could easy say he was six foot three. He was thin, yes, but not unattractively so. But his height did give him an advantage.

He stood with his feet a stable way apart next to his bed, arms out to each side and his hands were wrapped white-knuckle around his bed posts. He groaned through a cheeky grin, rolling his head back and closing his eyes.

In front of him, back of his knees pressed against the mattress of the (if not slightly over) extravagant bed, Sparrow's fingers fumble nervously with golden clasps and bronze buckles. He kissed and nipped and fumbled, pieces of Reaver's attire sloughing off him like water.

He was going to hell. He was going to hell. He was going to hell.

"So clumsy inna bedrum, Sparra…" Reaver's voice was low, husky. The elegance of his accent slipped, and for a brief moment he sounded like the farm boy he'd been born as. Neither commented. He made a contented sound when a warm mouth and sharp teeth found his collar bone, shifting to let go over the bed posters to slid the silken shirt off. Calloused hands roamed hesitantly over his rib cage and Reaver grinned, leaning forward a bit to grab the posters once more. Sparrow looked up at him and paused for a moment, all for the life of him looking like a rabbit on the poor end of a pistol. His grin only grew. "An' timid, my my." He shifted and lifted a knee onto the edge of the mattress, and Sparrow sat down rather heavily. His hands tightened on the posters and he lifted his other knee on the other side of Sparrow's hips, effectively sitting in the smaller man's lap. He leaned, pressing soft kisses across his jaw and down the tendons of his neck. Sparrow whined beneath him, and Reaver chuckled when hands began to tear furiously at his belt buckle. "Are ye /really/ the same hera' of Albion, Sparra?" They made quick eye contact and Sparrow looked timid again. Bloody hell, what a look. "Cause ye don't look like'em anymore, dearest."

What he could be reduced to.

Reaver lay flush against Sparrow's chest, the body beneath him writhing, the mouth he ravished whining and keening some quite exquisite noises.

Nimble fingers tickled feathers across the parted thighs he rested between. Sparrow groaned into his mouth, rolling his hips up. Reaver made a noise in return, grinding his own down against him.

Eventually he couldn't take it.

He curled long fingers on Sparrow's parted knees, pushing them further apart. He leaned, kissing and biting down the young man's neck, whispering hollow nothings. Sparrow whimpered, thrusting his hips up once. "Jus' do it, Reava. For the love of—"

'My God, that noise.' Reaver buried himself to the hilt in one quick motion, staring down through a breathy grin and foggy mind. Sparrow had his head thrown back into the pillows, mouth open, and making some of the most intoxicating sounds. He shuddered, starting a rough and fast rhythm. Not two thrusts later Sparrow arched even further, shouting his name a the ceiling. Reaver grinned halfheartedly, shifting to remain at that angle.

Sparrow was a whining, panting, blushing mess beneath him. Looking every bit a virgin. Begging, whining his name, quiet words of 'harder' or 'heaven.'

Strong hands knitted tightly into Reaver's hair. Reaver grunted and thrust into him harder, Sparrow sobbing softly and arching violently off the bed. He came to release hard across their stomachs, choking out Reaver's name again. Reaver only managed maybe a minute past before he emptied himself into the taxed body beneath him, collapsing onto Sparrow's chest and panting quietly into his neck. Eventually, Sparrow's breath evened out. Reaver remained silent, still for a long while before pulling himself from the still body and laying softly next to him. He watched the young man sleep, then grinned softly, expert fingers dancing along Sparrow's sides. "My my…what a hero can be reduced to…"


End file.
